


to last a lifetime (this is the right time)

by wafflesofdoom



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Sports, First Kiss, First Love, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-01-26 05:12:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12549812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: “and I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, i’d find you and i’d choose you.” - kiersten white.a series of aaron & robert mini alternative universe fics.





	1. the high school au

Aaron hadn’t even wanted to come to their stupid leavers ball, he really hadn’t. He’d only come because Robert had asked him to, and he’d never been able to say no to Robert, had he? Every stupid thing he’d ever done, every ridiculous situation he’d ended up in, it had been because of Robert  _bloody_  Sugden. 

Life would have been a whole lot simpler if he could just say no to Robert, if he could just walked away from Robert, from their friendship - from how much he  _loved_  the other boy. 

He’d been in love with Robert since he was sixteen, Aaron thinks. He’s not really sure when his childhood crush, the one he never wanted to admit to because he wasn _’_ t gay, turned into full blown, epic, all consuming love, but it had, and he hated it.

Aaron hated how he felt about Robert, because Robert was never going to feel the same, was he? Robert Sugden, ladies (and recently, mens) man, the guy who’d worked his way through half of Hotten sixth form with a smile on his face and not a care in the world. 

The two of them were just friends. Best friends, Robert had told him one drunken evening up on the cricket pitch, the two of them drunk off the whiskey Robert had stolen from his dad after they’d had a massive fight again. 

 _(“I don’t know what I’d do without you,”_ Robert had said, slinging an arm around Aaron’s shoulders, his breath stinking of whiskey, words slurred. _“You’re my very best friend Aaron, and I love you. I love you so much.” )_

He was about to figure out what he’d do without Aaron, because Aaron was done.

He hadn’t agreed to come to the leavers ball just to watch Robert draped all over his ex-girlfriend’s sister. 

No, he’d come because he’d thought maybe this could be it, this could be the night Robert decided he wanted him. That’s how it went in the movies, at least, you’d go to your last school dance and the boy you’d been in love with since you’d started skipping double maths together would say he loved you right back.

Aaron should have known that wasn’t how tonight was going to go.

Shrugging on his jacket, Aaron scraped back his chair, loud enough for Robert to notice he was leaving. Wordlessly, Aaron turned on his heel, and he left, left the school gym and headed out into the hallway, the exit in his sights.

Tonight - tonight he was going to leave Hotten Academy, and everything that had ruined his life for so many years here, Robert bloody Sugden included, behind, and he was starting over. 

He was, he was starting over.

“Aaron - Aaron, wait up,” Robert was jogging after him, sounding out of breath already. “What are you leaving for? It’s only ten, and I think there’s going to be an afterparty at Rebecca’s house.”

“I don’t want to go to an afterparty,” Aaron replied simply. “I don’t want to be here.”

Robert looked confused. “Why?” he asked, a hand on Aaron’s arm, that open, kind expression on his face that always made Aaron want to tell him everything. 

Robert knew nearly all of his secrets because of that one look.

“Why couldn’t you just chose me?” Aaron found himself blurting out, tears welling in his eyes. He just wanted Robert to want him, he wanted Robert to chose him, to want to be with Aaron the way so desperately wanted to be with him. “What’s wrong with me, eh? You’ve got it on with everyone else in our year, why not me? Why don’t you want me?” 

Robert’s eyes were wide. “I do,” he blurted out, looking positively overwhelmed. “I didn’t think you wanted me anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“Victoria told me, you used to like me,” Robert said. “Back when we were sixteen. I didn’t - I didn’t think you’d still want me now, that’s why I haven’t tried anything with you.”

“Really?” Aaron didn’t want to believe this was really happening. “God, Robert - I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen. I’ve always wanted ya.”

Robert stepped a little closer, close enough for Aaron to catch a lingering whiff of his aftershave, one Aaron had bought him for Christmas. “You love me?” he asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

“Shut up,” Aaron rolled his eyes, hating how his heart was thumping out of his chest now Robert was this close, the anticipation killing him, now Robert was this close, now his lips were this close. 

He just really wanted to kiss him.

“I love you too.”

Before Aaron had a chance to reply, Robert’s lips were on his, and he was snogging him for all he was worth, one of Robert’s hands on the back of his head, keeping him close.

As first kisses go, Aaron decided, it was one of his best.

(If a _little_ cliche.)

 

 

 


	2. the long distance au

“ _You’re the love of my life, you know_ ,” Robert said, his voice sounding static over the poor phone connection. It was always a bad phone-line, or poor internet connection, always something that made their nightly conversation sound as though it was taking place underwater.

Aaron pulled his duvet up around his chest, the oversized jumper of Robert’s he was wearing not feeling quite warm enough. Yorkshire was cold, always a little too cold for Aaron’s tastes. Always too cold when you were living alone, sleeping alone, always too cold without Robert there to warm him up.

Though, it wasn’t as if Robert had ever even seen this bed. Aaron had moved into a flat of his own in Leeds six months previously, exactly a year after Robert had left. He’d seen him once, in all that time, a blissful Christmas week spent together, back in their childhood homes and completely wrapped up in each other.

Aaron would give anything to have that back, to have his boyfriend back. It had been a year and a half of this, of trying to overcome the distance between England and Sydney, of trying to deal with the time difference that always had them on different days, let alone hours.

“ _Aaron_?”

“I’m tired, Robert,” Aaron admitted quietly, hearing his own voice looped back to him on a delay, WhatsApp never as reliable as it claimed to be. His entire relationship was being done through bloody WhatsApp now, and Aaron hated it, hated how he had to rely on his phone for a brief few minutes of contact with his boyfriend.

This wasn’t how he saw his twenties going.

 _“Do you want me to let you sleep then?”_  Robert sounded disappointed, their conversation only ticking over to ten minutes. They’d usually talk for an hour, at least, Robert getting ready for his day as Aaron’s was ending.

“No, Robert, I’m tired of this, I’m tired of barely getting to speak to you for an hour every day,” Aaron sighed, hating the tears that welled up in his eyes as he spoke. “I’m tired of you being half a world away, Robert.”

“ _I’m sorry,”_  Robert said after a brief pause.  _“I’m sorry, Aaron. I wish - I wish things were different, you know I do.”_

“I know,” Aaron curled in on himself, the ache in his chest practically painful now, thinking of all the years he and Robert had gotten together, before life had forced them into this long distance relationship. He’d been nineteen, when he met Robert in a nightclub, the prodigal Sugden son making a pitstop in Bar West before he’d come back to the village.

They’d talked, and danced, and they’d make out like teenagers (well, Aaron had been one) and Aaron had snuck him back to Paddy’s and lost his virginity (gayginity, Robert had joked afterward) there and then, Robert the first to make him feel enough at ease with himself that he didn’t overthink it, he just enjoyed it all.

(And then enjoyed it twice more before they’d passed out, the clock ticking over to four am and Aaron bone tired and happy, the kind of happy he didn’t ever want to lose.)

Three years of absolute bliss, before Robert’s company had offered him a director position - on condition, he move to Sydney for two years, and then they’d send him back to Leeds.

It was too good an opportunity to pass up, and they were too good a thing to put an end to, so long distance it was.

“I hate feeling lonely,” Aaron admitted. “I’ve been with you for nearly five years, Robert, I’m not supposed to feel lonely anymore, but I do, and I hate it. I hate that you’re so far away and it’s still six more months before we’re going to know if you’re coming home.”

Before Robert could reply, there was a knock on the front door of Aaron’s flat, and Aaron couldn’t help but groan in annoyance. Who was calling around this late on a Tuesday evening?

“Two seconds, I have to go and answer the door,” Aaron muttered, easing himself out of his blanket cocoon and padding through his flat. It was small, but it was nice - the kind of modern interior Robert would appreciate when he was back in England, back with Aaron.

Tucking his phone under his chin, Aaron unlocked the door, and promptly dropped his phone in shock. “Robert?” he managed to stutter out, his boyfriend standing, looking absolutely dishevelled, in the doorway of Aaron’s flat.

“Surprise,” Robert grinned tiredly, a collection of bags around his feet. He looked as though he wanted to pull Aaron in for a hug, a kiss - but it had been nearly a year since they’d last seen each other, and everything felt a little awkward, and unfamiliar.

“You’re home,” Aaron said, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re home.”

“For good, this time,” Robert confirmed. “I’m home, Aaron.”

Aaron genuinely couldn’t help the tears that started to pour down his cheeks as Robert confirmed the thing he wanted most in the world. “You’re home,” he repeatedly stupidly, feeling overwhelmed and excited all at once.

“I’m home,” Robert nodded. “Now are you going to come here and kiss me or what? Because it’s been a year, and I’m  _actually_  kind of desperate.”

Aaron couldn’t help but laugh, pulling Robert in by the front of his jumper, crashing his lips against Robert’s in a messy, uncoordinated, absolutely perfect kiss. “Welcome home then.”

 

 

 

 


	3. friends to lovers au

They were lying on the floor of Robert’s living room. It was where they always ended up, after a night out, Aaron always too drunk to go back to the pub - or so he claimed, feeding Robert his usual story about how the stairs creaked too much, and his mum would have his head if he woke her up at four am.

In all honesty, he just never wanted the nights he spent with Robert to end. They’d been friends a long time, him and Robert - best friends, really, in each others pockets since Robert had come back to the village aged twenty two, angry at the world and with nowhere else to go.

Aaron had understood how it felt to be angry at the world, and well, they’d bonded - over whiskey and beer, those first few times, before they realised they actually had a lot in common.

“ _Only gays in the village_ ,” Robert had joked, a few weeks after he’d come out for real, not just in a drunken, spur of the moment confession to Aaron. No, he’d come out to his family, to the rest of the village, in his usual spectacular Robert Sugden fashion - he’d brought a random lad to the pub, and snogged him for all he was worth.

Talking just wasn’t Robert’s style.

“I’d love a cigarette,” Aaron admitted, turning his head slightly to look at Robert. They were lying cheek to cheek, as always, stretched out in opposite directions. It was the exact position they’d had all their best chats in, those kind of deep conversations that only came at four am, when you’d demolished a curry chips and you just didn’t want to sleep.

“You quit,” Robert reminded, hands tucked under his head.

“I know, I’d still love one,” Aaron said, focus on the ceiling, on the peeling paint Robert had yet to fix. He had his own house now, Robert, a place of his own. He’d been trying to convince Aaron to move in, and make it a proper lads pad, but Aaron had managed to refuse so far.

(Moving in would just further convince his addled brain that there was a universe out there where Robert felt the same, where the great Robert Sugden, who’d worked his way through most of the Bar West regulars in the six months after he came out as bisexual, would want him, boring old Aaron Dingle.)

Robert suddenly laughed. “Do you remember the time we got ridiculously high in Amsterdam?” he asked, clearing thinking of the three weeks they’d spent travelling around Europe the previous summer. Holiday of a lifetime, really - just the two of them, and a whole host of beer.

Aaron groaned. “Don’t remind me,” he shook his head. “I got so paranoid I thought someone was trying to murder me.”

“And you had to come sleep in my bed, I remember,” Robert laughed. “We should do that again.”

Aaron turned his head slightly. “Get high?”

“No, go on a proper holiday,” Robert said. “I feel like I don’t get to see you enough anymore. I want your undivided attention, Dingle.”

“Tell your girlfriend that.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, and you know that.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “You should tell that poor girl that,” he said. “She’s convinced the two of you are going to get married, or summat.”

“You’re the only one for me, remember?” Robert teased, and Aaron felt his words as though they were a literal stab to the heart, Robert’s jokes about how Aaron was the only one he could put up with forever hurting more and more with every passing day.

That’s why you didn’t fall in love with you best friend, Aaron supposed.

“Don’t,” Aaron found himself practically growling before he could really even think about it, sitting bolt upright. “Don’t - don’t say things like that, okay?”

Robert gave him a confused look, not moving from his position on the floor. “Why?”

Why.

It was such a simple question, really, but Aaron really didn’t know how to answer, how to explain how he felt. Aaron didn’t want to explain how he felt, really, didn’t want to have to explain that he was in love with Robert, because he could lose him, and what was he supposed to do then, eh? He’d rather have Robert has a friend, than not at all.

“I just don’t like it,” Aaron muttered, pulling his legs close to his chest, pressing his cheek against his knee. If he folded himself up small enough maybe - maybe this would just all go away.

“Aaron.”

Robert’s hand was on his elbow, firm and gentle and practically burning through the thin material of Aaron’s shirt, a shirt Robert himself had bought for him a few weeks previously, arriving in the backdoor of the Woolpack with a Debenhams bag in hand and refusing to take no for an answer.

Aaron hated the tears that were welling up in his eyes as he turned to look at Robert, his best friends expression concerned. “You, joking about marrying me,” he began, clearing his throat as nerves took hold, his voice cracking. “You’re my best friend, and  there is no one in the whole world I can think of that I’d rather do it with - marriage and settling down, and all that.”

“Why haven’t you said anything before?” Robert asked, brow furrowed.

Aaron let out a bitter laugh. “Why would I? It’s not like you want the same, is it?”

“I do.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut, Aaron staring at Robert with wide eyes. “You do?”

“I do,” Robert confirmed, tugging on Aaron’s chin, pressing his lips against Aaron’s before he could really even respond, Robert’s lips soft against his own, the lingering taste of tequila and chips not the most appealing thing in the world, but it was somehow all Robert, all he’d wanted for so long now.

They broke apart after a couple of minutes, Aaron’s cheeks bright pink, Robert’s dumbfounded expression a mirror image of his own.

“Is this why you wouldn’t move in with me?” Robert asked, fingers tightly gripping Aaron’s wrist, as though he was afraid Aaron was about to disappear, as though this was all some sort of crazy dream.

“Ask me again,” Aaron smirked, feeling a thousand percent more at ease now, Robert’s hand on his familiar, and unfamiliar all at once.

“Aaron, will you move in with me?” Robert grinned, eyes bright, happiness seemingly pouring from every inch of his face.

Aaron returned the grin. “Only if you take me on a date first.”

 

 

 

 


	4. the friends to lovers au: the sequel

Aaron’s in a grump with him. Robert knows this, and he should probably apologise to his best mate, instead of watching Aaron angrily neck a coffee in one of the over priced, overly busy coffee shops on Dam Square, but he’s not going to.

Robert wasn’t very good at apologising. He was good at sweeping issues under the rug and pretending like he hadn’t made a mistake, but apologising? It wasn’t really part of the Robert Sugden arsenal.

“Are you going to be in a mood with me all day?” Robert inquired, swirling the last of his coffee around his mug, the dregs of the caffeine mucky and cold now. He spotted a girl giving him an appreciative look out of the corner of his eye, and he couldn’t help but smirk.

He knew he looked good today. It was the height of summer, and they’d landed to Amsterdam in the midst of a heatwave, so he’d broken out his shorts, the turquoise material hugging his arse, the white t-shirt he’d paired it with showing off the arm muscles he finally had, now Aaron dragged him to the gym three times a week.

“What are you smirking at?” Aaron practically growled, his mood clearly not any better than it had been that morning, when he’d woken a very hungover Robert up by banging around their hotel bathroom, singing in the shower at eight am.

Robert had known he was in the bad books from the moment he’d woken up.

“Nothing, grumpy,” Robert rolled his eyes. “Sightseeing is hardly going to be fun if you’re in vile humour all day long, is it? Cheer up.”

“You could just fucking apologise to me, you dick,” Aaron rolled his eyes, finishing the last of his coffee, folding his arms across his chest.

“When I have ever apologised?” Robert joked.

“Yeah, maybe thats the problem,” Aaron sighed. “You’re always right, aren’t you? Robert fucking Sugden, the only one who knows anything at all.”

Okay, so Robert had fucked up. They’d gone to a club last night, one of Amsterdam’s best gay clubs, in fact, and Aaron had been snapped up by some lanky German lad, buying Aaron beers and keeping him away from Robert all night.

He hadn’t been jealous. Robert obviously hadn’t been jealous - Aaron was his best friend, and that was all there was too it. He just hadn’t liked the look of the guy, so maybe he’d warned him off before Aaron could cop off with him.

And maybe Aaron and him had had a screaming match in the middle of a foreign city, Aaron yelling blue bloody murder about how Robert had no right to dictate who Aaron could and couldn’t sleep with.

Which was fair, if Robert was being logical.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Robert tried. “I was acting like a dick.”

“Yeah, you were.”

“Can you forgive me?” Robert gave Aaron his best puppy dog eyes, hoping to get a laugh out of his best friend. He’d always been good at that, making Aaron laugh - considered it one of his best skills, really.

“Do it again, and I will murder you,” Aaron threatened, looking completely serious.

Robert grinned. “Deal. Now can we go to the sex museum and get high? Because I didn’t come to Amsterdam to  _not_  be a complete cliche.”

                                                                

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert was a  _bit_  high.

Maybe more than a bit, if he was being honest. His limbs felt a bit funny, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He just felt relaxed, more than anything - he’d spent the evening smoking week with his best mate in Amsterdam, it’s not like he had any reason not to be relaxed.

He was going to have the best night’s sleep of his life.

“Robert?” Aaron’s quiet voice roused Robert from his bleary, almost asleep thoughts.

“Yeah?”  
  
“Can you check if someone is in the bathroom again?”

Robert was glad Aaron couldn’t see him rolling his eyes in the dark of their room. “There’s no one in the bathroom, Aaron,” he replied. “It’s in your head, mate. I told you that you were smoking too much.”

“You’re the fucking expert.”

Aaron’s snarky response was unexpected enough to make Robert laugh. “I had a better reaction to it than you, didn’t I?” he replied, shifting under the thin sheet that covered his bed.

It was still too hot.

A few minutes of silence passed before Aaron spoke again.

“Robert?”

Robert barely held in a sigh this time. “Do you want to sleep in with me?” he suggested. “Would that make you feel better?”

Aaron high, was turning out to be one of the least fun experiences of his twenties.

“Yes,” Aaron’s response was barely audible.

Robert kicked back the covers, flicking on his bedside lamp. “Come on then,” he said, eyes taking a second to adjust to the now bright again room. “Before I fall asleep and leave you to the monsters.”

Aaron’s hair was practically standing on end as he padded across their hotel room, looking absolutely ghostly pale. “It’s not funny,” he mumbled, not bothering to wait for Robert to make another joke before he climbed in beside him, plastering himself against Robert’s side.

Robert smiled, tugging the sheet up around them, wrapping an arm around Aaron. “At least we know weed isn’t your thing, eh?”

                                                              

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took Robert a second to remember why there was someone else in his bed, as he woke up, memories of the previous night coming flooding back, Aaron’s bad reaction to the weed they’d smoked taking hold as they’d walked back to their hotel, Robert bundling him past the receptionist before Aaron could ask them to check their room for ghosts.

Aaron was practically lying on top of him, legs hooked between Robert’s, arms wrapped tightly around Robert’s waist, his face shoved into the crook of Robert’s neck. He’d woken up like this with people he’d dated before, sure, but never with Aaron.

Usually, when they shared a bed, they were drunk, the two of them collapsing into their respective sides of Robert’s double back in Emmerdale, asleep before they could even say goodnight.

This was different, this felt different. Robert found himself in absolute awe of Aaron as he watched his best mate sleep, could feel the thud of Aaron’s heartbeat against his house, felt the warmth of his body against Robert’s own.

He could push him off, definitely. Aaron was so dead to the world, he probably wouldn’t even notice.

But Robert didn’t want to.  _God_ , he really didn’t want to.

Rather than dwell on why, dwell on why he’d ruined Aaron’s chances of hooking up with someone, dwell on why he was happy to stay curled up in bed with his best platonic mate (because he knew, deep down, of course he knew, Robert had noticed the changes in his feelings for Aaron from the start), Robert simply pressed a kiss to Aaron’s tousled hair, closing his eyes again.

Amsterdam would still be there when they woke up.


	5. 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaron turns 21, and robert sugden comes home.

21.

Aaron was 21 today, the age everyone had always talked about, the one where you were a proper grown up, where you had the world at your feet. Adam had been buzzing, to turn 21, but Aaron had never really understood his best mates enthusiasm.

Still, his mum seemed to agree with Adam’s enthusiasm, and she’d decided to throw him the party to end all parties on the night of his 21st, the Woolpack overrun with family, and friends, and most of the village to boot, and it was overwhelming, at best.

He hadn’t been having a bad birthday, before the party. Adam and Victoria had dragged him into Leeds, his two best mates treating him to a slap up meal in the new steakhouse that had opened there last month, buying him enough pints to have him feeling pleasantly fuzzy when he’d gotten back to the village, the party already underway.

(He did appreciate them trying to make him as late as possible to his own party, though - his best friends knew him well.)

It was cold, even for January. Aaron was regretting not bringing a coat outside with him, when he’d ducked out of the party, determined to avoid his drunken mother and her tearful cries about how proud she was of her boy.

He wasn’t sure he would ever be drunk enough to deal with that.

“What’s the man of the hour doing sitting outside alone?”

Aaron looked up to see Robert approaching the picnic table he was sitting on, two bottles of beer in hand.

Robert bloody Sugden, of all people.

He looked unfairly gorgeous, considering it was supposed to be Aaron’s big day, wearing a dark navy suit that seemed to cling to every inch of his body, highlighting all the parts Aaron had fantasied about getting his hands on for years, his blond hair done up in a perfect quiff at the front.

He looked more like a model, than a banker.

“Avoiding people,” Aaron said pointedly, not accepting the beer Robert held out to him.

“Am I included in that?”

“I haven’t decided if you’re a person or the devil incarnate yet, but either way, I don’t want to spend my birthday with you,” Aaron said, tugging his sleeves down over his hands, delighting in the way Robert winced as he pulled his brand new, very expensive jumper out of shape already.

Anything to rub Robert up the wrong way, really.

“That’s harsh,” Robert said, ignoring Aaron entirely and settling himself down on the bench next to him. “Happy birthday, by the way. 21, how does it feel?”

“Same as yesterday,” Aaron said, purposely not looking at Robert, gazing into the distance, not looking at anything in particular, really.

“Aaron, come on.”

“What, Robert?” Aaron twisted so he was looking at Robert. “Did you think I was going to want to talk to you or summat? What did you really expect me to say - or do?”

“I’m trying to fix this, you know,” Robert said, setting the second bottle of beer down, nudging it toward Aaron, gesturing at his empty glass.

“There’s no fixing it,” Aaron said gruffly, swiping at the beer. “We’re done, you and me.”

“Aaron -“

“It was my birthday when it happened, you know. Do you remember that?” Aaron interrupted. “I had just turned seventeen, and I’d been in love with you for as long as I could remember, so I decided I’d tell you, as soon as I was seventeen. So I pulled you out here, the night of my birthday party, and I told you everything - I told you how much I wanted you, how loving you had helped me to figure out how I was. Do you remember what you did, then?”

“Aaron, please,” Robert’s voice cracked mid-sentence, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as Aaron spoke, hurt and anger tinging his every word.

“You told me you wanted me too,” Aaron continued, remembering the night as if it had been yesterday. “You pushed me up against that wall over there, and you kissed me until my head was spinning, and then I took you home with me.”

“You don’t have to tell me all this Aaron, I was there too,” Robert tried to interject, messing with the peeling label of his beer bottle, looking downcast.

The angriest parts of Aaron didn’t care, didn’t care about how visibly hurt and embarrassed Robert looked as he spoke - and well, the angriest parts of Aaron were winning, there and then.

He’d spent so long hopelessly in love with the blond asshole sitting next to him, and now - now he was finally getting his moment to tell Robert Sugden exactly what he thought of him.

“You made me fall in love with you even more,” Aaron said. “And then you left.”

“You were seventeen,” Robert said, sounding helpless. “I was nearly twenty, Aaron - we wanted different things. I - I would have messed you up, if I’d stayed, if I’d let whatever was between us get serious. You don’t know what you want when you’re seventeen.”

“I knew what I wanted,” Aaron said, defiant. “I wanted you to fight for me, I wanted you to try, Robert.”

“I wasn’t ready to love you the same way you loved me,” Robert admitted, honest for the first time since it had all happened. “You were so brave, you know? You embraced who you were - even after everything you went through to accept it. I wanted to keep hiding, I couldn’t give you what you needed.”

“All I needed was you, Robert,” Aaron shook his head. “I’m not - I’m not Katie, or Donna. I loved you for who you were, and that’s all I needed. We could have figured out the rest.”

“Loved?”

“Did you expect me to sit and wait for you to come around?” Aaron asked, anger bubbling in his chest again. The audacity of Robert to think Aaron had sat around and moped, for four years, waiting for the boy he’d loved when he was seventeen to come home again.

That wasn’t what happened. Aaron had fallen in love with the gorgeous rugby player he’d met on a night out in Hotten, and he’d loved him enough to follow him to France, and he’d loved him enough to let him go, in the end, knowing he couldn’t give Ed everything he needed.

He’d loved, and lost, and he’d grown up, and he was 21 now, and he wasn’t a lovesick puppy chasing after his best mates older brother, anymore - he wasn’t seventeen, and happy to take every tiny drip of attention Robert offered, didn’t desperately crave the older boy’s attention.

No, his love for Robert had settled now, had boxed itself up into a corner of Aaron’s mind, the tragic story of first love that nearly was, but wasn’t, in the end, and that’s where it was going to stay.

It was where it had to stay.

“Love,” Aaron corrected himself simply. “I’ve always loved you, Robert - and I think I always will, but I don’t know if I want you, anymore.”

“21 looks good on you,” Robert said after a few moments of silence. “You’re more grown up than I remember you being.”

“I was seventeen then.”

“You used to wear your socks tucked into your tracksuit bottoms, do you remember?” Robert laughed suddenly. “God, that was a tragic look, Aaron.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, shoving at Robert’s shoulder. “I was seventeen, I didn’t know any better!” he protested. “Anyway, says you - don’t forget I’ve got pictures of back when you had a mullet.”

“Emmerdale was never the height of fashion, was it?” Robert said, laughing to himself. “For what it’s worth - I am sorry. I thought I was doing what was best for you, I thought I was protecting you. I didn’t want you to wake up and regret it all. I didn’t want to be the guy who messed you up because he couldn’t love you properly, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it then, however much I wanted to.”

“You better now?”

“I think so,” Robert said. “I came out to my family, when I moved back - but I guess Victoria told you that already.”

Aaron grinned. “Vic tells me everything, including the fact you still sleep with Spot,” he said, remembering the time he’d stayed over at Robert’s and found a tattered old soft toy under one of his pillows, a beetroot red Robert explaining it was his favourite toy as a child.

“Some things never change,” Robert said, looking carefully at Aaron.

He looked gorgeous. Time had only ever been good to Robert, the oldest Sugden growing into himself in ways Aaron could only admire, tall and confident, his hair shorter and his eyes greener than Aaron remembered.

They were sitting close enough that Aaron could watch the rise and fall of Robert’s chest, that he could practically count each breath as it left Robert’s lips, lips as rosy and red as they had been all those years ago, the first time they’d kissed, against the side of the Woolpack, Aaron tasting like coke and the bottle of cheap cider he’d necked in his room with Victoria, Robert tasting like everything he’d ever dreamed of having.

“Isn’t this supposed to be the part where we kiss?” Robert joked, his eyes bright.

Yes.

It would be so easy to say yes, to fall into the arms of the man he’d dreamed about having a second chance with for so long now, but Aaron wasn’t going to do that.

No, he was 21 now, he was an adult, a proper one, and he was going to do the right thing - the right thing by himself, and the right thing by Robert.

“It’s the part where we try and be friends,” Aaron said, taking a swig of his beer. “And then we see what happens.”

Robert gave a long, slow nod, taking a drink of his own beer. “Sounds good to me - chavvy bastard.”

Aaron grinned. “Sheep shagger.”


	6. i'll give you the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> robert always promises aaron the world, and maybe it's because he's stupid and sixteen but - well, aaron believes him.

“Well, this is awkward,” Robert smirked, a stupidly delighted look on his face as Aaron answered the door in his pyjamas, ridiculous dog patterned ones Paddy and Rhona had given him for Christmas. “I didn’t realise I was picking up my six year old best mate.”

“Get fucked,” Aaron rolled his eyes, heading back into the house, and to the kitchen, his half finished cup of tea calling his name. “I’m hungover, alright?”

“I didn’t know you still slept in your kiddy pyjamas though,” Robert teased, following him inside, his bike tossed carelessly onto Paddy and Rhona’s front lawn, something Paddy would probably moan about if he saw. “Anyway, how are you hungover? I was up at six am milking the cows with Andy.”

Aaron shot him a glare. “You don’t get hangovers, you prick,” he said, sipping at the sweet, milky tea he’d made himself. “I drank more than you anyway.”

Robert snorted, busying himself making a cup of coffee, sneaking some of Rhona’s nicer coffee. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” he said, flicking the kettle on. “Come on, get dressed, we’re supposed to be gone by now.”

“It’s only 12!” Aaron protested, knocking back the last of his tea. He had a banging headache, and all he really wanted to do was crawl back into bed and do nothing for the day.

Damn Robert Sugden and his apparently inability to get hangovers. At 1am, he was knocking back shots with Holly Barton, and apparently still managed to get up and work on the farm and not die.

Life was unfair.

“And I told you to be ready for 12,” Robert said pointedly, stirring some milk into his coffee, the scent making Aaron’s stomach turn a little. He was at that point of the hangover where it could really go either way - he hadn’t puked yet, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he did. “Get dressed, you lazy arsehole.”

“You’re an arsehole,” Aaron mumbled halfheartedly, not meaning it. He never meant it, not really, not anymore. Robert was leaning against the kitchen counter, looking like everything Aaron had never known he wanted, all blond hair and freckles, wearing a jumper that had probably been stupid expensive, knowing Robert’s ridiculous taste.

“You like it, though,” Robert inclined his head slightly. “You’ve got a hickey, by the way.”

Aaron looked down at his chest, the t-shirt of his pyjamas slightly too big for him, leaving his collarbone exposed, and sure enough, there was a blooming purple bruise right where his shoulder met his neck.

“That’s your fault, innit?” Aaron said, poking at the the bruise. “At least you put it somewhere I can hide it, this time.”

“I’m learning,” Robert grinned, a sparkle of something in his eyes, something Aaron wasn’t quite used to seeing yet. He hadn’t dated many people, before Robert, had only snogged a few girls at parties, and he’d gotten with Jackson once, his first proper snog (and some seriously heavy petting) but Robert - well, Robert was the first real anything he’d had.

They were both learning, really. Learning in secret, learning in quiet corners of parties where no-one would catch them - learning in all the open fields of the rural countryside they’d grown up in, no one around except a handful of sheep and a fox or two.

Aaron stuck his tongue out at Robert in response, heading for the stairs. He didn’t really have time for a shower, he grimaced, sniffing at his armpits.

It was nothing half a can of Lynx couldn’t fix, really.

Aaron managed to get dressed fairly quickly, throwing on a pair of jeans and an old hoodie, shoving his phone and his wallet into his pockets before he thundered downstairs again, Robert finishing up his coffee.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” he asked, watching as Robert shouldered the backpack he hadn’t noticed when he’d first let Robert inside the house, the two of them heading out the door.

“No,” Robert grinned, righting his bike. “But you get to jump on the back again.”

“Can’t we walk?” Aaron didn’t own a bike, and he couldn’t drive, Cain refusing to teach him until he’d actually gone and done the theory exam, so he always ended up getting a backer off Robert, his boyfriend the proud owner of a sturdy looking mountain bike.

“We’d take forever if we walk, come on,” Robert said, already starting to peddle.

That meant Aaron didn’t have a choice.

Sighing, he hopped on the back of Robert’s bike, his boyfriend taking off down through the village, and into one of the nearby country lanes. It was the height of summer, and the weather was good, it was sunny, and it was warm, and the wind that whipped up around them as Robert cycled was refreshing more than it was cold.

“I’ll have a car one day, you know,” Robert said, shouting over his shoulder. “And then we’ll be able to go anywhere we want to.”

Robert had made Aaron that promise a thousand times - really, he had, promises of he car he was going to own one day soon, the car that was going to take them away from Emmerdale once and for all, the one that held the key to all their adventures.

And the thing was, well - Aaron believed him. Aaron believed that one day, Robert would turn up outside his house, driving whatever battered second hand car he’d managed to scrounge the money together for, and they’d go, they’d go somewhere so much more exciting than Emmerdale, a place where they didn’t feel as though being a secret was their only option.

Maybe it was stupid, but Aaron was sixteen and he was stupid in love with the blond cycling them down a narrow country lane, Robert humming some shitty pop tune to himself as he peddled, the wind messing up his perfectly done hair, a bright smile on his face and the whole future unfolding out in front of them like a bright summers days.

“You better milk a few more cows then,” Aaron said, holding onto Robert’s waist a little tighter as he rounded a corner a little too quickly, the two of them skidding to a stop at the edge of the quarry, water glistening below them. “Because I want out of here.”

Robert tossed his bike aside, grabbing Aaron by the waist, confident now in a way he never was in the village. “I’ll give you the world someday, Aaron Dingle,” he murmured, grazing his lips against Aaron’s softly, the kind of kiss Aaron could always feel right down to his toes. “I promise you.”


	7. the rugby au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> turns out being in a secret relationship with your teammate during the rugby world cup wasn't exactly easy.

Aaron’s got a bruise blooming on his hip, Robert notes. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, not in their haste to undress each other, both of them frustrated and needing release after their loss against Wales.

But he was noticing now. It was a bad one, the kind of bruise Aaron was going to wear like a battle scar for weeks, the edges already mottled black and purple. Playing against Wales always resulted in a few injuries, and more so when they were playing on England home ground - Wales had come to Twickenham to fight, and fight they had done.

Aaron was always a target, in these games. Robert remembered when he’d come up onto the England squad, a grumpy looking twenty one year old, the ballsy scrum-half who’d made it to the Leicester Tigers squad at barely twenty.

He’d been jealous, at the time. Robert was used to being the golden boy of English rugby - he’d gone through the academy for the Wasps, leaving Emmerdale behind at sixteen in favour of chasing his dreams of professional rugby, much to his fathers distain. Robert had been called all sorts - the one to watch, the golden boy of English rugby, one of the greatest props of the last decade.

He liked it, he liked the attention - and then Aaron had come along, silent and stony, and one of the best rugby players Robert had ever seen. They’d played together, Aaron’s first six nations game. He’d come on as a replacement in the second half, and managed a try in his first minutes on the field.

It had been nothing short of spectacular, not that Robert would tell him to his face, but that had been the moment he’d wanted to know more about Aaron Dingle, another Yorkshire lad who’d made his moves to chase his dreams of getting to wear that white jersey and play for his country.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Aaron said quietly, pressing a thumb to Robert’s forehead. “The game is over, Rob.”

Robert sighed. “It’s over, and we lost,” he said. “We should have won it.”

“I know,” Aaron said, propping himself up on an elbow, careful to avoid the KT tape on Robert’s shoulder. It was more precaution, than anything else, but he’d landed awkwardly during a tackle, and the team physiotherapist was reluctant to risk Robert missing the next game on injury grounds. “We should have, but we didn’t, so we’re just going to have to look to the next game, aren’t we?”

“I want it so badly,” Robert admitted, thinking of all the world cups he’d watched, all the times he’d dreamed of being part of the England squad that would win it, and win it on home soil. That dream felt like it was slipping away, bit by bit, and their next game against Australia already shaping up to be a tough one.

“So do I,” Aaron hummed. “How good would it feel, to win?”

“We’d party for days,” Robert grinned, pressing a soft kiss to Aaron’s lips. “We could even take a holiday.”  
  
Aaron pulled a face. “That wouldn’t help the rumour mill, would it?”

Ah, the rumour mill.

Robert had all the faith in the world in rugby. He’d never been a religious man, but the way he loved rugby felt a lot like how other people might worship God - but there was no denying it wasn’t a sport with many gay players.

No, that was wrong. The gay players existed, but they didn’t come out until they retired.

The thought of keeping this, them secret, until they were both off the pitch and into their golden years of retirement was depressing, in all honesty. Robert figured he had a good seven years left playing professional rugby, provided injury didn’t get him first, and Aaron? Aaron had a decade left, fifteen years if he kept playing the way he did.

“Do you ever think it could work?” Robert asked. “If we told people.”

Aaron was quiet for a second, thoughtful. He was sort of out, the kind of non-confirmed, common knowledge sort of out you got so often in sport - he’d never denied his sexuality, but he’d never confirmed it either, and every time the rumour mill got too curious, he always managed to pull an epic try, or tackle out of the bag, and turn the focus back to where it was supposed to be, on his rugby skills, on the pitch.

“I want to believe it would,” Aaron said, stroking a thumb against Robert’s cheekbone, the nasty cut there from a bad tackle making Aaron wince as he looked at it. “But I don’t know for sure.”

“I’d do it, if I thought it wouldn’t affect us,” Robert admitted. “I don’t want to be the bisexual English rugby player. I want to keep being me, Robert Sugden, England’s top choice number three.”

“Let’s not think about it now,” Aaron said. “We’ve still got the rest of the World Cup to play.”

“True,” Robert agreed, glancing over at his watch. “You should probably go, we’re going to get called for training soon.”

“I don’t want to get up,” Aaron grinned, that stupid, infectious smile that always twisted Robert’s heart in his chest and got him to agree to anything, fixed in place on his face. “You’re comfy.”

“You should sell that scoop to the papers, you know - Robert Sugden, a comfiest prop in England.”

“I haven’t tested out the other props,” Aaron grinned cheekily, easing himself into a sitting position. “Anyway, I think they’d be more interested in how good your thighs look around my waist. Did you see that article the Mail wrote that was just fifteen different shots of your arse? The country is in love with your legs, Sugden.”

Robert grinned. He’d definitely read the article in question, and he’d definitely enjoyed the ego boost. “I’ll make sure they write one on your arse next, don’t worry,” he said, smoothing a hand over the firm muscle of Aaron’s arse. His boyfriend had a body to die for, and Robert would have given anything to stay in bed and keep indulging in all of his favourite parts of it, but they had training, and press, and tactics, and all the boring parts that came with playing professional rugby.

Just, give him a ball and get him on a field and he was happier.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Aaron said, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Robert’s lips, savouring the feeling. It was easier to sneak nights like this during the six nations, during the normal season, but the world cup was different, and they’d been lucky to sneak off after the post-match commiserations, the squad cursing the fact they couldn’t drink away their sorrows after the two point loss to Wales.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Robert echoed, watching as Aaron snapped his Team England tracksuit bottoms over his hips, wincing as the elastic snapped back against the bruise on his side.

Aaron Dingle was always a sight to behold, but even more so when he was like this, half naked and sleep soft, the powerful, athletic scrum-half he was on the pitch a softer, calmer man in Robert’s bed, the kind of man who snorted at Robert’s dumb jokes, and kissed him like Robert was worth fighting for.

They were worth fighting for, Robert knew that much. But with a World Cup win slipping from their grasp, and more than a few doubts about how accepting their profession might be, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had any room to fight at all.

**Author's Note:**

> these have all (generally) been prompted over on my tumblr (capseycartwright) but i wanted to put them all together in a place that would make it easier to find them, because i do love a good au.


End file.
